


Sweet Siesta

by nappingapparition



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, i found this old piece of shit in the sorry unused dusty corridors of my writing folder, it's disgusting fluff, posting it here so i have two shitty works posted, pretty short too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-03-15 18:28:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3457358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nappingapparition/pseuds/nappingapparition
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which two sleepy nerds are unusually sweet towards each other (for the most part).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet Siesta

The first thing you feel when you wake up are his arms around you.

It puts you in a tranquil mood, of course, so you sigh and shift in his arms. Facing him and snaking your own hold around his hips, you lure him closer. It seems that he’s still unconscious, chest rising and dropping in the slightest.

You feel a small smile curl up on your lips - one that you only pull when no one is watching - before you lean in to press a benevolent kiss to his cheek. He reacts by shifting in his sleep; you can see the corner of his mouth slithering into a minuscule grin as he croons, however.

You know it’s still bright outside. It’s pretty obvious that you have a completely convoluted sleep schedule, so you aren’t at all surprised by this revelation. Not one goddamn bit.

Another non-surprise is when he wakes up just as you decide to close your eyes once more. So, you flutter them right the fuck back open to peer up at him, the smile on your face returning to your default expression. “Did I wake you up?” you inquiry, grey voice like gravel.

He just hums in response instead of giving you an actual answer. His voice is sweet but rusty from the sleep previously endured, hitherto this small moment of word exchange.

“Smile’s cute,” he comments, quiet and uncharacteristically sugary with you as he pulls your bodies flush against each other to press his lips against yours with ease. Now, normally, you would protest to his use of the word "cute" to describe _you_ of all trolls, but right now, you're a little preoccupied by yours truly. Speaking of lips, you notice that his are somewhat callused from stressing on them with his ridiculously oversized canines while he's abstracted. You know it’s a subconscious habit of his when he’s been typing something up for a while, or otherwise immersed into one of his other hobbies that he seldom brings up. Nevertheless, they feel nice against your own.

Against him, you melt a bit and let your eyes shut again, letting out a steady breath from your nose and leaning back against the ‘coon wall. Tilting your face wayward, you catch his upper lip, tentative with your teeth before your lidded eyes rendezvous. When that happens, he pulls back just by an inch or two and grins at you, looking all sleepy and dopey and… cute, okay? He looks cute. That makes another smile of your own to occur, and you scoot up a little bit more to kiss his nose.

“Thanks,” he chuckles at the smooch, and you lean back to stick your tongue out at him (very mature of you, by the way) before leaning all the way back against the wall of your ‘coon. Since your arms are already lassoed around his hips, you bring him with you, and he doesn’t protest. Instead, he opts for squeezing another small kiss to the shell of your ear and letting his lips rest just above there, tickling in the slightest. “It’s a little too bright to be up though,” he whispers; you can tell how groggy he is, but the whisper with his lips hovering above a sensitive part of your body sends a slight shiver down your spine.

“Oh, yeah. Oops,” you shrug, getting more comfortable against him and shutting your eyes. “Who the fuck cares? Not me.” When you feel him nip the shell of your ear, playful, though, you jump before growling at him and biting his shoulder in retaliation. He curses, although, ultimately, he decides that payback isn’t in his best interest. Not while he's all sleepy and covered in sopor. “I’m going back to sleep, don’t get your goddamn panties in a twist.”

“Okay, K.K.” He turns to tuck his chin on top of your hair, and you shift to bury your face into his neck. It's quiet, but you hear him mutter, “Sweet dreams.”

And at that, you have snicker dryly before pressing a wayward kiss to his throat.

“As if.”


End file.
